Her Doctor
by YouLookLikeFOOD
Summary: 10.5's POV. He'd do anything for her. Anything to make her happy. So when Rose crys, "You're not him!" he decides to bring 'him' back. The Doctor. But is he her Doctor, or something new? Is this new regeneration too different? One-shot, maybe two-shot.


**A/N: Written in 10.5's point of view. This may be a two-shot or longer if enough people want me to continue it or if I get any new ideas. **

"_Don't you get it? You're __**not him! **__You never will be!"_

She slams the door behind her, crying loudly. I can do nothing but stare, and keep staring.

Surely that door will open again.

Surely she didn't mean it.

She couldn't have meant it.

She'd never say that.

My eyes trace the patterns in the wood grain, waiting, watching. I expect the door to open at any moment. But it doesn't. And I keep waiting.

I thought this had been settled. I thought we'd made it through. I thought she loved me. _Me, _not him. Not the man I used to be.

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I'll never get used to that simple, double-beat. I'll never get used to feeling everything so perfectly clearly, so intensely painful that it drives one to madness. Humans; they're so insanely brilliant that it hurts. I can't help but love them, their whole mad race.

I can't help but love _her_.

I keep watching the door. I sit down, waiting in silence, waiting for her. It's only then that the tears come. Because it's obvious now; she _did _mean it. She meant everything, everything she said.

I replay the conversation in my mind, each word excruciatingly clear. They sting so much worse now, because I know she meant them, she truly _meant _them.

Does she hate me?

Does she love him?

Did she ever let go of him?

I close my eyes. No. No, of course she didn't. She loved him; how could she just abandon him so easily? I couldn't expect her to. I shouldn't have. But I was unable to see past my own feelings, unable to see the root of her pain.

She loves _him._

And I'm not him.

I move away silently. I'm breaking every rule there is to do this, but I don't care anymore. All I care about is her. All I care about is seeing her smile, one last time, even if it means that I'll never see it again.

I type a few commands into the computer. Ugh. Slow, primitive human technology. You can't even hit it; it'll slow down and possibly break. Each second takes a lifetime to pass.

Despite my upgrades, it's still too simple to be of any use. I'll have to use the TARDIS.

Not like I expected it to be different.

I walk out of the house-I'm still not used to it staying in one place _all the time-_ and into the backyard. The cold night air cuts through my jacket with ease, causing goose bumps to rise on my arms. I shiver slightly; another downside to being human.

I make it to the TARDIS with only a few quick steps. Once inside, everything that's still a Time Lord inside me comes to life. I feel myself relax as I gently stroke the coral-like structures, tapping a few buttons lightly.

I suppose I always knew this day would come. Otherwise, why would I have built this? Why would I have planned for it? Why would I be prepared right now?

I type a few commands, and the TARDIS column begins to rise. The machine stays in my backyard, but something else comes through.

And it's official. As I step out of the time machine and see him standing there, I know. There's no going back. I've done everything I shouldn't do. Everything I'm not supposed to do.

But I've done it for her.

The man pulls himself off the ground, dusting himself off. He's wearing suspenders, of all things, and a bow tie. His hair is wild, sticking up in a thousand different directions and incredibly thick. And he's skinny; very skinny.

He whirls around a few times, calling out, "Amy? Rory? Hello?"

He spots me, and his eyes widen. They're dark, and they sparkle with mischief. "Hello."

I swallow. "Hello, Doctor."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you know me?"

I nod. Perhaps I would have recognized him. Perhaps not. But as I'm the one who brought him here, there is no doubt as to his identity, despite his regeneration.

"I need your help." I say. I can't believe I'm here, asking him this. Only one person in the universe could drive me to this. Only her.

The other eyebrow joins the first. "I see." He straightens. "Lead on, then!"

I can't help but stare. Is this how I would have ended up? No. Because if I was him, I would never have lived. But it is strange, knowing what could have been. What should have been. What might have been, had the Daleks not intervened.

I gesture for him to follow, walking towards the house. I don't knock on the door, which makes The Doctor's face twist in confusion.

I lead him to the door, the one I've stared at for hours, waiting for my wife to walk out, to talk to me again. It's hard to see her as the woman who screamed for joy when I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She's changed so much.

"Talk to her." I whisper. "Please."

He looks at me, confused, as I push open the door.

"_GO AWAY!"_ Rose screams from inside.

The Doctor's eyes widen. I don't answer his unspoken questions; I just gesture for him to go inside. Looking at me suspiciously, he does as asked.

"Rose?" His voice is very quiet, the tone that he only reserved for her. Even in this regeneration, that tone has not changed, the tone that I often use.

She wipes her eyes, puffy and red. Her mascara has smeared, making her look as though her eyes are black. But I can only really see those chocolate-brown eyes, staring back at me, at him, glittering with tears. I want to wipe away those tears. I want to make it better. But I can't. Because anything I do will be rejected.

"Who are you?" She asks, wary. Her eyes dart from him to me and back.

"It's me, Rose. It's the Doctor."

Those eyes, those beautiful, brown, tear-filled, glittering eyes widen, growing round. "D-Doctor?"

He smiles winningly. There's something about this new regeneration that makes me glad I won't have to change into it. Perhaps it's the face. It's honest enough, but it could be easy to hate. Especially if your wife used to love him.

But I push the thoughts aside; only Rose matters now. Her eyes find me, ducking in the doorframe. Her lips form silent questions, all of the thousands that must be running through her mind.

Another tear trails down her cheek.

"Rose…" he whispers, hugging her gently. I have to suppress a surge of jealousy. He may have been me, but as Rose so accurately pointed out only hours ago, I'll never be him.

She sobs into his shoulder. I turn away, not knowing what to say. She wanted the Doctor. She wanted _her _Doctor. Well, here he is, and he's changed. So what will she think? What will she think of him? Of me? Will she still see me as 'someone else'? Will she still see him as 'the same'?

"You've regenerated." She says, her voice cracking.

"Yeah." He grins.

She holds him at arm's length, examining him. I try to make myself invisible, to let her figure things out for herself.

"How did you get _skinnier?_" She demands at last.

And then they're laughing. Because it's all so painful, all so ridiculous, all so incredibly complicated that they can do nothing else. She pulls his hair upwards, the way she always used to do, making it stick up in even more crazy angles than before.

"You've changed." She says at last.

"You haven't." Is his only reply.

She looks at him. "Doctor…"

"I'm sorry."

I smile slightly, unable to help it. Whenever there's a woman crying, the best thing to do is apologize. You may not know what you did, but you can figure it out later, and if it wasn't your fault, it will at least make her laugh.

But I know what he's apologizing for. What I would have apologized for; leaving. Leaving her behind in this parallel universe with me, never saying a proper goodbye, just disappearing into the TARDIS and out of her life forever. And while she had me, well…

I'm not him.

"You could have said something." She knows him well. She knows us both _too well_. "A goodbye, a… an 'I'm glad I knew you', _something. _Anything would have been better than what you _did._"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and we both realize what she's doing, though we spare her dignity and pretend we don't. She's testing his heartbeat, the quadruple-beat. One two three four. One two three four. That beat that took me so long to forget, that made it so difficult to handle life with just this single heart.

She releases his hand, obviously satisfied.

The Doctor takes her hand back, gently holding it in both of his. "Rose, look at me."

She does so.

"Look me in the eye, all right? Just, in the eye, ok?"

She nods.

His voice lowers to a whisper. "Do you love me?"

She swallows. "I don't…" Her eyes flicker to me.

"Look at me."

He eyes snap back to him, but she can only hold them there for so long before they drop to the floor. Tears well up in them, spilling down her cheeks like sparkling diamonds. Everything in me demands to stop those tears, to wipe them away from those perfect brown eyes. But I know that this is what she needs. She needs him. She needs to understand.

The tone is back in his voice. The one we both reserve for her and her alone. "Do you love me?" He repeats.

She swallows again. She doesn't look at me, because this isn't my decision. It's hers.

"Yes." She breathes at last. A sob chokes in her throat, and her eyes dart to the ground once more.

He gently takes her chin in his hand, holding it up so that she has no choice but to look at him. "Rose, do you know me?"

And there it is. The one, single question that could shatter everything. The one question that only she can answer, that only she can ever answer.

"Do you know who I am?" He presses gently.

She's confused, it's plain enough to see. Her mouth opens, then closes again. "You're the Doctor." She says at last.

He smiles and nods. "Yes. I'm the Doctor. But who am I, Rose?"

She swallows, then speaks in a repetitive fashion, as though this is some test that she can not be allowed to fail. "You're a Time Lord. From the planet Gallifrey. The Doctor." She can't keep it up. Despite his hand holding her chin, her eyes still dart to the floor. She can't look him in the eye.

He continues to smile. "Yes. I'm _the _Doctor."

He takes it a step further, holding her face in his hands carefully, and gently, ever-so-gently. "But am I _your _Doctor?"

She swallows again. This time, she keeps her eyes on his, unable to break away. The tears keep coming, pouring out in a miniature waterfall. She wipes them away as best as she can, her breath hitching in her throat.

"No." She says at last. Her breathing steadies somewhat. "No. You're not."

Impossibly, his smile stretches ever wider. A long, thin finger gently taps her nose. "Exactly."

Now she turns to me. I smile sheepishly, ducking my head.

She looks back to him. "Don't leave."

He holds up two fingers, then three, as though he's unsure of exactly what he's doing. "Scout's honor."

She smiles weakly, then walks towards me. I don't look her in the eye, giving her time to figure everything out, giving her time to decide what needs to be decided.

And then her arms are around my neck. She crying again, but this time she's laughing as well. "I'm sorry." She whispers, again and again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

I wrap my arms around her. "It's ok, it's ok, I'm sorry too, it's ok…" I gently kiss her cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Doctor shuffle on his feet, looking away.

For his sake, I break away from the hug earlier than I want to.

She hugs him as well. "I miss you." She admits.

"Ah, you don't need little ol' me." He says good-naturedly. "Not when you've got him."

I beam at him. Perhaps I was a little harsh. After all, this regeneration's not all bad.

I leave them to their goodbyes. They're real this time; no more of the running, no more abandoning her without a word. And they talk. About life. About everything that's happened. About his new companions, Amy and Rory, who are supposed to be getting married, though that hasn't quite happened yet.

I leave after a while, allowing the two to talk in peace. When I come back, The Doctor looks a little shocked. Perhaps even a little pale.

And then its time. I walk outside with him, taking him back to the TARDIS. He stops me when we're halfway there, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I should be furious with you." He says.

"I know." I reply. I would be furious with me, if I was him.

"I should be giving you the lecture on parallel worlds, and the danger of ripping holes in the fabric of time and space."

"I know."

"I should be very, very upset."

I pause. "Are you?"

He studies me in silence for a long time. "No."

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Him because he's said what needs to be said, and me because I can't. I can't think of a word to say, a single statement in my own defense.

Finally, I ask, "Do you still love her?"

He looks at me, and for the first time, I see the true horror that was born in this regeneration. I see the sadness that was in every regeneration before, the pain that I thought had been kind and skipped this one, just for once. It can only be seen in his eyes, and only when one looks as hard as they can, deep into those dark depths.

He sighs heavily, and his voice shows his nine centuries as he says, "Yes. Absolutely yes."

And that's it. There's nothing else that needs to be said. With a few strokes of a keyboard, the pulling of a few levers, The Doctor begins to glow.

"Say hello to the others for me." I say.

"If I get a chance." He replies as he begins to fade. He's almost gone when he calls, "Oh, and, Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

He grins and winks. "Congrats."

And, in a flash of light, he's gone.

I stare at the space he previously occupied for a moment, before returning to my house. I smile. My house. Oh, that nonsensically stable house that never moves. That house with its windows and rooms and carpets and windows and mortgages. My home, with the woman I love and the life I could never have had. The life I never should have had.

I truly pity the Doctor.

I walk back inside. Rose is sitting on the bed, her fingers toying with her wedding ring. I sit next to her, kissing her gently.

"I'm sorry." She says, smiling apologetically at me.

"It's fine." I reply, smiling back.

"No, really." She continues. "I'm sorry. It's just…" She sighs. "Doctor, I don't know how to tell you this…"

"Just tell me." I say. "It'll be much easier that way."

She smiles weakly. "You'd think so." She takes a deep breath, and her hand wringing gets worse. "It's just… you know how… well, I've been really irritable lately, and… and how I've been getting sick all the time?"

I raise an eyebrow.

"Let me put it this way." Her brown eyes lock on me. "It's a boy."


End file.
